Longevity
by OptimisticPessimist12
Summary: One could say he was three different people. The first being a simple man, so afraid of death that he would do anything to stop it. The second being an immortal pirate king, terror of the seas. The third being a twisted industrial giant. These men were, are, and forever will be, Reaver. *Rating may change*
1. Part 1: Prologue

**A/N: So, I finally managed to get the start to this idea down. I've been meaning to write a 'Chronicles of Reaver' type story for a while now, and I decided I would give it a shot. This story will be split into three parts, each for the three parts of Reaver's very long life. **

**I'm playing around with the idea of who the aforementioned "her" will be, though I am a fan of the sibling theme that Fable games seem to have, so there will be quite a bit of that in this as well. **

**Anyway, here is the little prologue. The first chapter should follow within this week sometime, hopefully. **

* * *

**Longevity **

**Part One: A Brother **

**Prologue**

* * *

"Pick something _challenging_."

Anna glanced up at her brother with a look of slight annoyance, though she quickly looked away and scanned the area for her next target. He had already shot the trunk of the furthest tree, the scarecrow in the field across from them, a number of branches. He'd refused to shoot the hat off of the head of a passerby, though she was sure he would have hit that too if he had been inclined to actually shoot at a villager. She paused, looking at a rather tall tree across the field from them, noticing a small, red object dangling from one of the branches. A smile crossed her face as she pointed towards it.

"That apple," Anna stated, "the one on the tree right in front of us."

Her brother gave her a look, raising an eyebrow at her. Of course he would have no problem with this. She figured the only target that would be too challenging to him would be the sun, not that it would stop him from trying.

"Okay, fine," she stated, crossing her arms, "you can't hit the apple itself, you have to shoot the stem that is still connected to the branch and have it _fall_ from the tree."

"Ah, now that is a challenge," he said, pulling an arrow out from the satchel on his back, loading it into his bow and pulled back. He got into the correct stance, pulling the string back until the outside of his thumb just touched his cheek.

Anna turned to look at the tree he was aiming at, hearing the snap of the string of his bow being released. She watched as the arrow whizzed by her, sailing high up into the air before it started to drop as it neared the tree. The arrow flew just above the apple, hitting the trunk of the tree as the apple dropped and hit the ground.

A chuckle escaped her as she shook her head.

"You big show off," Anna said, starting to walk across the field towards the tree he had just shot.

"When I had asked you what you wished to do today, you said you wanted to see me shoot," she heard him say, making her glance back at him over her shoulder, "so, I have done just that."

"I didn't expect you to hit every target," she said, letting out a laugh.

It was days like this that filled her heart with joy, which was something she really valued these days. Even if it was just a day of walking around Oakvale with her brother, he always seemed to make it so that she dreaded the moment he had to leave once again. Since their father finally passed on, it was now just Anna and her brother. They had their older sister, though she was never all that close with them and she didn't visit as much as she used to.

She hadn't even shown up for their father's funeral, though she sent her condolences through a letter. It was formal and distant, as if the man that had just died wasn't her father too and she was just yet another hand on Anna's shoulder, telling her how sorry they are for her loss. Now, her brother was searching for a steady job to put coins in their pockets, even to the point where he joined the town guard. It was odd, seeing him dressed in the armor that made him look bigger than he really was.

Sometimes, it almost looked like the weight would crush him.

Though, that meant that he would leave town sometimes with a group of other guards, off to aid another town from bandits or another threat. Once that started happening, the fact that death could easily grip him one day made itself more prominent.

Quickly shaking those thoughts from her head, not wanting to ruin the last couple minutes with her brother with dark thoughts, she bent down at the base of the tree once they were close enough. Picking up the apple, she inspected it and noticed that, aside from being a little bruised, there was no mark that the arrow hit the fruit.

"Nice shot. Once again," she glanced up towards where the arrow was currently embedded in the tree, "how are we going to get that down?"

"I can live with one less arrow," her brother said, "you need to be getting back, anyhow."

He noticed the expression on her face at the mention of this, the way she let out a sigh through her nose and the downright angry look that crossed her face.

"You have to return, Anna," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder as he started to lead her back towards the main part of Oakvale.

"I know," she stated, allowing herself to be walked back across the field, "I just can't stand it there anymore."

"It'll only be for a few months, still," her brother said, "once I return, I will have enough money to buy us a home so you won't have to live in that place anymore."

"You said that the last time," she said, giving him a look out of the corner of her eye, "_and_ the time before last."

"I mean it this time," he said, pulling her to a stop once again, turning her around so she was facing him, "I'll be back just before the winter months."

"That's a whole _five months_, though!" Anna exclaimed, "the longest you have been away for is a few weeks."

"You have friends, a safe town, and a roof over your head," he said, "I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"What if you don't come back at all?"

"Don't talk like that, of course I will."

Anna looked away from him, crossing her arms before she nodded her head. She knew her brother was quick on his feet, and if his skill with a bow didn't speak of his ability to defend himself, she didn't know what else did. Still, she couldn't help but worry that he wouldn't return one day, that he would be gone and she would be left by herself in the home like the children that cried themselves to sleep some nights, or she would be sent off to live with her older sister.

"You promise?" she asked after a few moments, looking back up at him.

"Yes, like I always do."

"Then I'll be waiting for you."

He placed a gloved hand on her head, Anna smiling up at him once again. She didn't really know why, but this goodbye was harder than the others. There was part of her that seemed convinced that her brother wouldn't be returning.

_You're all I have left. _


	2. Part One: Chapter One

**I'm sorry for the wait on this chapter to those who are reading this. Been pretty busy with school and such, though I finally managed to get this chapter written out. It got rather dark, especially towards the end, so be warned. **

**Anyhow, for those who are confused, Richard is Reaver. Richard was a temporary name that just kind of stuck, so I apologize for it's unoriginality. **

**Anyhow, enjoy! **

* * *

**Longevity **

**Part One: A Brother**

**Chapter One**

* * *

One thing Anna hated about the shelter was the crying.

As cruel as it was, Anna couldn't help but wish that the other children would stop crying at night. The new children at the shelter were the worst, the ones who had just recently had their parents taken from them, or vice versa. They almost always cried at night, when they believed that they wouldn't be heard. Some just sniffled, some outright sobbed.

Anna didn't like listening to it, she wished that it was silent at night so she could sleep without the pressure in her chest or the heavy feeling of sympathy in her gut. She hates to admit it, but she had cried a few times as well, back when her brother first placed her in the shelter. Though, she never shed more than a few tears. Anna could never get herself so worked up that she would sob.

Maybe that is why she hates it when the other children cry, when they curl up under the blankets and cry for their missing parents.

Anna's father had been long dead, almost for six years now, and she hadn't really cried about it. Of course she was sad about his death, shocked even, because it had been so sudden. Illness had taken him, he was supposed to live for much longer than he did. Anna had looked to her brother for guidance, what they were to do about this. She could remember the day that he died, how Anna had spent the day inside, she had been recovering from a minor illness as well.

She had waited until late noon and there was no sign that her father had even left his room. Anna could remember walking towards his bedroom, pushing open the door and calling his name. He was just...there, laying on the bed. His skin was almost grey in colour, and there was just a heaviness to the air. Anna had been young then, though she understood enough that she could recognize a corpse when she saw one. That lead her to run through the streets of Oakvale, yelling her brother's name in a panic.

He reacted even less than she did when Anna showed him their father's body. Her brother had just slammed the bedroom door shut, looking almost as pale as their father. After a few more moments of silence and her brother's almost disgusted facial expression, he told her to go outside and wait for him by the tree that they liked to sit under during the summer months.

So, she did. She waited almost all day, just sitting under the tree with her legs pulled up to her chest, an almost numb feeling washing over her. When her brother had finally came to collect her, he seemed to be just as numb as her. He had prattled off about a funeral, telling their sister, and spending the night in the town's inn. After the funeral, her brother just told her to let it go, they didn't need to even speak of it anymore.

Anna still can't talk to her brother about it, he just hated talking about death or anything that as associated with it. After a while, he did say something about it, though it wasn't about their father. He told her that, someday, somehow, he would make it so that death couldn't touch them. Anna had reminded him that it was impossible, yet he just seemed to ignore that. Still, she knew that he knew it too. As much as he tried to hide it from her, Anna could still catch him prodding at the skin around his eyes and mouth, running his hands through his hair with such concentration that it almost looked like he was checking each individual strand.

What was he checking for? Grey hairs. Any signs that he was getting older. He was getting older, and he hated that fact, even if he was still, technically, young.

She couldn't help but think that, one day, he would make a very miserable old man.

* * *

Anna woke with a start, feeling someone place their hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake. It took her a few moments to realize that she had even fallen asleep in the first place. All she could remember was thinking about older days, when she still had a home and nobody seemed to be miserable. At least the dreams she had, the ones she could remember, seemed to be pleasant.

The woman standing above her was a familiar face around the shelter, the woman who ran and managed most of the children. She was someone you didn't want to face while on her bad side, that was for sure. Her face was stern, something Anna started to believe that came naturally to her, the look in her eyes echoing the one on her face.

"You can't sleep all day, Anna," she stated, crossing her arms as she watched the young teen push herself up into a sitting position.

"I didn't know," Anna said sleepily, rubbing her right eye while looking up at her with her left.

"It doesn't matter," the caretaker said, handing Anna what appeared to be a letter, "this arrived for you this morning. Once you are ready, there is some left overs from today's breakfast and then you'll be helping the cook as punishment for missing your chores this morning."

Anna pulled a face, not happy about being punished for not being able to fall asleep at a decent hour. She watched the caretaker walk out of the room for a few moments before she opened the letter, pulling out a single piece of paper. It actually looked a little dirty and worn, like the sender had been working on it for a while. Though, a small smile crossed her face at the familiar scrawl.

_Anna, _

_I hate to inform you of this, but it appears that I won't be returning at the time I had told you I would be. Though, at the time of me writing this, I am sure you are well aware of that. The situation in this town turned out to be much more complicated than any of us had been expecting. As much as I would rather be back in Oakvale with you, this town needs me more. I'm sorry. _

_Though, I am keeping my promise to you about getting you out of that home. _

_I have sent money to our older sister, Natasha, and asked that she buys the house I had been talking to you about and that she stays with you in Oakvale until I return. I know how much you dislike her, but it will only be for a little while. It could do you good to spend some time with her, Natasha isn't the monster you make her out to be. Still, it will hopefully only be for a little while longer. _

_I promise you I will return in one piece. _

_- Richard _

Anna's smile faded as she read the letter, a sense of disappointment setting in her gut. Yet, at the same time, she was glad that at least he was able to keep part of his promise. Even if it meant that she would have to stay with Natasha for an undetermined amount of time.

She pulled the blankets off herself, quickly getting out of the bed and wondered off down the hallway towards the kitchen area of the house.

* * *

He watched the dark woods, the trees bare and the air biting at his exposed face. Winter had gripped the small town tightly, though it was last thing the townsfolk were worried about. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his eyes scanning the woods for any signs of movement in the darkness. With a heavy sigh, he turned and headed back into the town.

It was rather late, a time where none of the people living in the small homes showed their face. It was out of fear that they did this, the only people walking about were himself and the other guards that were assigned to the task of fending off the beasts if they decided to attack. Balverines were difficult to fight, especially if one were sleep deprived and unsuspecting. Still, the nights seemed to grow more and more quiet as the months rolled on.

Richard strolled up towards the main part of town, thinking of the possibility of sleep once again. The town was nice enough to provide the night guards a small house with windows that were able to close. It was nice of them, seeing as a number of the homes in the town were burnt down by the townsfolk in an attempt to save themselves, locking blaverines inside, burning them along with everything they owned.

Still, even with the house fairly dark during the day, sleep was hard to come by as it did get bitterly cold during the day. Though, not as bad as it usually was during the nights.

Richard shook his head, clearing his head from the rambling thoughts and memories. For the second time that night, he allowed himself to think of home. While he trusted Natasha a little more than Anna did, he was still a little concerned about how his older sister would take to looking after someone other than herself. Natasha was reaching her mid-thirties now, no children, no husband, just a small house in Bowerstone and nobody to watch out for but herself.

He didn't want to call Natasha selfish, yet he couldn't help but feel that she certainly was to some degree. Still, he had to trust her and Richard didn't want Anna to lose faith in him even more than she already did.

As much as he would much rather be back in Oakvale, he did have a duty to the town he was stationed in.

"Sir!"

Richard paused, turning around to face the voice. A woman ran towards him, a panicked look on her face.

"Sir, please, come quick! We need help, m-my daughter she..."

"Where is your daughter?" Richard asked, attempting to calm the woman enough so that she could focus. Her face as red, as if she had been standing out in the cold for a long while. The woman stared at him for a few moments, as if trying to figure out what he had just asked.

"This way!" she said after a few moments, turning quickly on her heel and headed down the path that Richard had just walked up. He quickly followed behind her, the woman wrapping her arms around herself. She certainly wasn't dressed to be out in such weather, a simple dress was the only cover she had against the wind, her feet were even bare.

He couldn't help the sinking feeling building up in his gut.

After a while, the woman approached one of the houses that still had their fires brightly lit. She climbed up the stairs, striding into the dimly lit room where Richard could see two other people in the room. There was an older man and a younger girl, who was whimpering in pain as the man kept wiping away at her neck and shoulder.

"What happened?" Richard asked, the man looking up at him sharply before he turned towards the woman that brought him there. She was standing by the fire, looking worriedly at her daughter before meeting the gaze of the other man.

"You brought a guard?" the man asked, his voice sharp.

"I-I panicked!" the woman exclaimed, "she came in here, bleeding and I just-"

"What happened?" Richard repeated sharply, not liking that he was being ignored while the girl looked to be in great pain.

"B-Balverine," the girl gritted out through chattering teeth, "we ran out of wood...so, I went down to a friends to borrow some of theirs and I was attacked."

"Let me see," Richard said, looking over at the man who was still kneeling before her with a bloodstained rag. He narrowed his eyes at him slightly, but the young girl just muttered something quietly to him. He glanced over at her before he stood and backed away, allowing the guard to look at the girl.

Richard knelt down at her side, peeling the blanket off her shoulder and gently tilted her neck. The girl hissed, shutting her eyes tightly. There was a deep gash that just barely missed her neck and looked like it ran down towards her chest. Though, it looked like the sleeve of her dress was stained with blood where the slash wasn't located. Gently, he pulled it back and revealed a whole other wound. This wasn't another cut from claws, instead it looked like her skin was ripped into by something sharp.

"She's bitten," Richard stated after a few moments, the girl not looking back at him even after he stood upright once again. The woman, her mother, stared at him in horror.

"No! No, she was just scratched!" she exclaimed, looking over at her daughter, "Lottie?"

Lottie didn't look at her, she just kept her eyes tightly shut. The only sign that she hadn't passed out was the shaking the shook her limbs every now and then. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and swallowed.

"It scratched my neck and I fell backwards," she explained, looking from her mother's eyes to her father's, "I managed to hit it with the axe beside the wood, but it wasn't before it...bit into my shoulder."

"Is the balverine dead?" Richard asked, Lottie shook her head sadly.

"No, I scared it," she explained, "it howled and ran off."

"There has to be something we can do," her father said, looking over at Richard. He shook his head, letting out a sigh.

"You know this. Once someone is bitten by a balverine, they turn into one. I'm sorry, but we need to get your daughter out of the village before she turns," he said, Lottie seemed to know this too as she wrapped the blanket around herself tighter and stood.

"You can't do this," her mother stated, stepping closer to him, "I have already lost a son to the winter, and now my daughter?"

"There is nothing anybody can do," Richard said, narrowing his eyes slightly, "it is not worth losing a whole town over one girl."

"He's right," Lottie said softly, swaying slightly, "it's not worth it. I've been bitten."

The woman stared at her daughter, mouth agape as she tried to come up with a retort. Lottie shared a look with her father, who had fallen silent. He placed a hand on his wife's shoulder, looking away from her to mutter something to his wife. She looked like she wanted to shake him off, but Lottie brushed past Richard and out into the cold night.

He cast one last glance back at the house, knowing he really did want to do something about Lottie, but there was just nothing he could do. He quickly picked up his pace to catch up with the girl, who moved rather quickly for someone who was wounded.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't," Lottie snapped, shaking her head, "it was my fault, I should have been more aware."

She paused, turning to look over at him. Her eyes were hard, though he could easily see that she was holding back tears.

"I don't want to become a balverine," she said, shaking her head, "I don't want to become a beast that is driven to attack anything it comes across. Please, you have to kill me before I turn."

"No, I won't-" Richard started, though Lottie cut him off with an actual _chuckle_.

"What other choice do you have, sir?" she asked, a humourless smile on her face, "you release me into the woods, where I turn into a balverine and then I die attempting to attack the town. It would be easier for you, easier for me. Please, sir."

Richard was against killing anything he had a connection to, because he knew that it would haunt him for days after. He had killed balverines and other creatures, but they seemed to just come at him and it was just...easier. Lottie, though...he knew her name, he would have to face her parents for the rest of his stay in the town knowing that he ended her life.

Yet, a part of him agreed with her logic. Regardless if he ended her before her change, he would still have to face her parents because he was the one who took her from them, then he could very well be the one to kill her in the end.

"Please, allow me to have some choice in this," Lottie begged, all hardness and anger gone from her face. She was begging him to end her life on her own terms, she knew what was happening to her and what the outcome would be. She didn't want to become a beast.

Richard's shoulders slumped, a look of defeat crossing his face. Slowly, he found himself nodding, agreeing to end this girl's life himself.

Lottie even smiled at him, which seemed only to make the choice harder to live with.

* * *

"Are you cold?" Richard asked, leading Lottie just outside the town. She kept getting paler and paler as they walked on, though her strength didn't seem to lessen as they continued on. The flimsy blanket around her shoulders didn't seem like much, she was dressed a little more than her mother was when she came to fetch him, yet it was still very little.

"No," Lottie said, frowning, "I'm very warm, actually. I don't like it, we have to do this very soon."

Richard didn't reply to that, leading her out towards the clearing where the people sent the bitten people. It was far enough out into the woods that it would take a little while to get back into town, keeping the bitten away from the people while they changed. Lottie paused, looking up at the trees as the snow crunched under her feet. Richard was hoping that she was changing her mind, that she would tell him to turn around and head back to town.

Yet, Lottie just glanced back at him and gestured towards the bow that rested against his back.

"You said you would do this for me," she said, "you need to do it quickly."

Richard hesitated, looking at her for a few moments. He felt disgusted, disgusted by himself and that situation he found himself in. If Lottie had asked a guard to accompany her to borrow wood, maybe this wouldn't have happened and he wouldn't have to kill her. Though, he had told her he would...

Reaching up with shaking hands, he pulled the bow off of his back, pulling an arrow out of this sheath. Lottie turned around, her hands gripping at the blanket around her shoulders. She seemed oddly calm for someone who was about to face death, something Richard was sure he wouldn't be. She shifted on her feet slightly, holding her head up.

_Hit the apple. _The thought popped into his head, morbid, and made him look away from her for a few moments before he released a breath and aimed for her head. Her hair was a dark brown, it almost seemed to match the barks of the trees. He would have to mix red in there.

Letting out a steadying breath, he pulled back on the string, trying to still his shaking hands. She wanted this, she wanted to die with the fact that she chose to do so and not to be killed because she had hurt somebody else.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, releasing the string with a snap. He should have looked away, yet he watched as her head snapped forward, his arrow embedded in the back of it. He couldn't look away as she fell to her knees, the rest of her body slumping forward then fell to the side. She lay in the snow, blanket still wrapped around her shoulders.

The brown feathers of his arrow moved slightly with the chilling breeze.


End file.
